Chapter Fifteen #3
Despite his aunt’s earlier claim, she did not tell him to throw the book out the window at the first mention of a crumbling old manor on page six.
In fact, if he didn’t know better, he’d say she was thoroughly engrossed in the story of a beautiful young Lack-blooded spinster who was hired by a reclusive Luster gentleman with physical and emotional scars aplenty to work as a governess for the man’s unruly child after his wife’s mysterious death.
The Luster man and his daughter had the power to manipulate shadows—a gift that Arden had never heard of among the Lusters.
It wasn’t only his aunt who was engrossed in the story either.
Arden found himself itching to turn the pages and discover if the story’s mysterious hero, Geoffrey Valance, had, indeed, murdered his late wife as local villagers suspected, and if the plucky heroine, Elspeth Reed, would find herself his next victim.
“. . . and with a savage growl emanating from deep within Mr. Valance, he took hold of Miss Reed’s sweet face in his rough-palmed hands, looking down into her wide blue eyes, and knowing there was no quelling the hunger within him, he claimed her mouth with an intensity that left her breathless and quivering, fear and lust going to war within her heaving bos—”
Arden clamped his mouth shut, heat stealing over his face as he realized he’d gotten carried away with the story and forgotten that he was reading aloud to his aunt. He looked up at her, embarrassed, only to find her glaring at him rather than appearing remotely scandalized.
“Don’t you dare stop now, Arden, things were just getting good.”
Arden cleared his throat, looking between his aunt and the book. He decided to skip over the mention of Miss Reed’s heaving bosom and began again.
“Miss Reed wrapped her arms around Mr. Valance’s neck, holding him close, even as she knew he might well be the death of her.
When she felt his hands gather her skirts up, the cool air blowing over her bare skin, she wrapped one lithe leg around his hip, feeling the hard—” He broke off, closing the book entirely.
“Arden!” his aunt protested.
“I think it’s best we stop there,” he said. Even if his aunt offered to name him her heir on the spot, he might still refuse to finish reading that sentence aloud in her presence.
His aunt snorted. “Are you worried about scandalizing me, Arden? I was married for five decades, you know. I am hardly some blushing debutante.”
Arden shook his head. The last thing he wanted to think about was the more salacious details of his aunt’s married life.
“I’m far more worried about scandalizing myself, Aunt Phi,” he told her with a self-deprecating smile.
He had little objection to the material itself and, in fact, envied the fact that Mr. Valance and Miss Reed seemed poised to enjoy a far more satisfying end to their kiss than he’d experienced in longer than he wished to think about.
The lingering threat of murder aside, of course.
“I didn’t take you for such a prude, Arden.” His aunt scoffed. “Though you ought to be relieved to learn that Miss Mayles possesses a passionate soul—at least if her choice of reading material is anything to go by.”
Arden glanced down at the book in his hands, with its misleadingly demure pale-pink cover.
In truth, he couldn’t bring himself to care one way or another about where Miss Mayles’s passions lay.
He should, but it seemed an impossible feat when his mind kept replaying the moment Mavis stood before him in the modiste’s fitting room and let her dressing gown drop.
His aunt held out a hand. “Give it here, then. I’ll read it to myself and save your delicate sensibilities.”
Arden swallowed a protest and passed her the book before settling back into the chair beside her bed. She found the place they left off and began to read, her fingers turning the pages quickly. After a moment, Arden spoke again.
“You like Miss Reed, then?”
His aunt scowled up from the book, annoyed at being interrupted. “She’s a bit silly, I suppose, but that isn’t her fault. Most of us are silly at twenty, and I’m sure she’ll wisen up with age.”
“She’s Lack blooded, though,” he pointed out.
His aunt shot him a glare. “Do you think me prejudiced, Arden?”
“No,” he said quickly. Too quickly, perhaps, to sound genuine. “But I did think you might have an issue with a Lack seducing someone Luster born. Most people would.”
His aunt rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don’t think she’s the one doing the seducing, Arden. Mr. Valance was practically salivating from the moment she set foot in Margrave Manor.”
Arden leaned forward. “You know what I mean. At the regatta, when the Lack boat won, there was a shift in the air. I don’t think a single Luster applauded them.”
His aunt sighed and looked up from the book, giving him her full attention, albeit begrudgingly.
“Well, Lusters are not used to losing. I expect we’ll require a bit of practice to manage the feat with any grace.
As to the book, Mr. Valance has done his duty and passed on his gift to his daughter.
Besides, they aren’t real people, are they?
And there is something a bit exciting about the star-crossed element of it.
Given the macabre tenor of the book, I don’t expect they’ll live happily ever after at any rate. ”
Arden’s smile felt tense. “I suppose not.” He thought about Mavis again—their ending never stood a chance at being a happy one.
He let his aunt return to her book, the sound of pages flipping with increased speed the only sound as he mulled over his thoughts.